


Short and Ugly

by SeafoamPetals



Category: Invader Zim
Genre: Character Study, Cuddling, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, M/M, Mutual Pining, Post-Canon, because yell yeah friendship good, brief ment of background zadf and i guess sadf too, hey yall uuuuuuh zasr rights, introspective, oh yeah references to hitchhikers guide to the galaxy, two irkens sitting on a couch one inch apart because they are gay but don't know how be vulnerable
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-03
Updated: 2019-10-03
Packaged: 2020-11-22 22:29:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,473
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20881706
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SeafoamPetals/pseuds/SeafoamPetals
Summary: "While Zim still went to Skool (now “High Skool”) out of habit rather than out of obligation to obtain information, Skoodge worked. Skoodge worked a lousy job at a convenience store. "Working a late shift can't be as bad as a planet full of violent oversized rats, right? At least there is someone to come home to in the odd hours of the night-morning.





	Short and Ugly

**Author's Note:**

> I love Zim/Skoodge but there is so little content that I guess I have to make my own content. ZASR rights baby!

While Zim still went to Skool (now “High Skool”) out of habit rather than out of obligation to obtain information, Skoodge worked. Skoodge worked a lousy job at a convenience store. He didn’t have to, when he first started helping Zim with his mission to take over Earth he had tried going to Skool but it reminded him too much of the Academy on Irk. Skoodge instead got a job, someone had to get Earth Moneys if they were stuck here, at least so Gir’s desires for waffles and tacos could be satisfied. The problem with getting an Earth job is that Skoodge can’t put “Irken Elite; Conqueror of Blorch, home of the Slaughtering Rat People” on a resume. Not having qualifications for much in the eyes of humanity, he had to settle for this. A convenience store, and one that stayed open until 3am, for the sake of the drunken and the stoned. It was supposed to be his day off, but a coworker had called in sick (they probably weren’t sick) and Skoodge, a certified pushover, took the shift. And it just his luck it was a closing shift too.

It was a Friday night, actually, it was now Saturday morning as the clock above the counter said 1:59 am. An hour left. It was an average night, every now and then someone or a small group of people would stumble in grab some overpriced snacks, pay, and leave. The most eventful thing that happened was small talk with a customer about an hour ago who had just gotten off a late shift of their own. They wished Skoodge luck with the rest of his shift. Small, polite interactions kept things bearable. Some of his favorites were awkward groups of college students with red eyes grabbing bundles of snacks and laughing at everything like it was the greatest joke ever told. What also kept things bearable was reading, it was never something Skoodge had time for until now. On Irk there hadn’t been much to read anyway, all that was available was propaganda. Art wasn’t necessarily prohibited, it was instead heavily regulated. The guidelines were strict, if what was created didn’t glorify Irken might then you were as good as dead. Skoodge enjoyed consuming the literary and visual arts that flourished on Earth, even if he didn’t understand all of it, it was refreshing and new. Tonight, he had started a new book. Dib had given him a copy of _Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy_, the boy had laughed and asked Skoodge to tell him how accurate it was. It had been three years since Zim came to terms with the reality of his mission. That it was fake. There were a few times after that he tried to destroy the Earth, those were violent, catastrophic times. The plans had no regards to Zim’s own safety, they were fueled by spite and rage. Eventually he stopped, burned himself out, made a truce with Dib. The two were friends of sorts now and Skoodge was getting to know the boy better, it was awkward for sure, but there was a strange solidarity as a group of rejects from their respective societies.

Skoodge found himself amused by this “Hitchhikers Guide” Dib had given him. Truthfully more than amused, he was surprised that it was accurate. The science was far from… scientific, but it was the _tone_ that was accurate. Skoodge even found himself laughing at how much the book’s “Vogons” reminded him of the Irkens. These “Vogons” blew up the Earth to make way for space highway, Skoodge’s Blorch was now a parking structure planet. Hitchhiking wasn’t even an uncommon way to travel the universe, Skoodge had even had to do some hitchhiking to get to Earth. Most startling was the description of the so-called _Pan Galactic Gargle Blaster_ something Skoodge was all too familiar with. At the Academy there was a hazing ritual to see who among the Elites could stand drinking a whole glass, Skoodge downed two, more than anyone else. It really was like having your brain (and PAK) smashed by a lemon slice wrapped around a large gold brick, and Skoodge did it twice. It earned him respect for a day before everyone went back to ridiculing him. It was a good day he spent horrifically hungover. And while Skoodge doubted that the author, this "Douglas Adams", was an alien, he felt it was likely that the author had known one. Earth was a back-water planet, but not unlivable, in all respects it was an ideal place for someone who needed to disappear.

Skoodge was snapped out of his little world when a hand slammed down on the counter and the smell of beer made his antenna twitch under his wig. He looked up, a drunken human probably in his late 30’s looked down and sneered.

“Didn’t know people came in green, short, and ugly, god really fucked up when making you huh,” The man laughed they a nasty belch and then his face twisted “ARE YOU GONNA FUCKING RING ME UP OR WHAT?”

“S-sorry right away, sir” Skoodge fumbled and rang up two large bags of chips, the triangular orange kind that leaves dust everywhere, and a case of beer. It took longer than either had wanted it to. Skoodge, tired and startled hit the wrong button on the register and had to start the whole process over again.

“What are you stupid too?” The man tapped his foot and spit on the floor.

When Skoodge finally and successfully closed out the purchase and handed the man his change, it was quickly swiped from his shaking gloved hands.

“Took you long enough,” He spit again and stormed out. There was still thirty minutes left. Sometimes Skoodge missed the Slaughtering Rat People.

\---

Skoodge opened the door to the garishly teal house, as an Irken he didn’t need to sleep, but he wanted to. A voice jolted him with enough energy to keep from collapsing right then and there.

“MASTER, SKOODGE IS HOME!!” Gir with his dog suit half zipped up ran over and hugged him as he closed the door behind him. He took off his contacts and wig, placing them in his PAK. He patted Gir on his little metal head and looked at the couch, there two large red eyes stared at him. An expression hard to read. The room buzzed softly with a late night (technically morning) television show.

Had Zim been waiting for him?

“SKOODGE WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN?” Zim’s voice was loud but not upset.

Skoodge sighed, removing Gir from him, and explained that he was called in to pick up the closing shift “And well that’s that, sorry I should have contacted you; it was last minute.”

“Why didn’t you tell them no, YOU ARE A MIGHTY IRKEN INVADER, YOU OWE NOTHING TO THAT FFFFFILTHY HUMAN!” Zim’s face twisted as he spoke, now he was angry.

Skoodge shrugged he was too tired to argue Zim about it, he walked over and plopped himself on the couch on the opposite side from Zim. “Just seemed easier to take the shift, someone had to.”

“EH? THEN MAKE ANOTHER PIG-WORM CONVIENT WORKER DO IT.”

“I guess I should have, what would the manager have done? Shot me out of a canon during an organic sweep?”

There was silence. And then the bubble popped with a single chuckle from Zim. Then they were both laughing, it grew louder and louder. Gir joined in, he didn’t know why the two Irkens were laughing, but he joined in. Zim kicked his legs against the couch and Skoodge clutched at his squeedilyspooch. Skoodge heard Zim call him a soft-headed idiot but he barely registered that before he felt Zim push him over. And like that they went full on into play fighting like smeets. Elbowing, kicking, slapping, none of it painful just enough to annoy the other and get the upper hand. It lasted until Zim’s knuckles ground roughly into the top of Skoodge’s head as his other arm wrapped around his neck. Skoodge yielded.

“VICTORY!! VICTORY FOR ZIIIIIIM!” He let go of Skoodge and the two propped themselves back into a sitting position, now sharing the same cushion on the couch. Their hands an inch apart. They stared forward at the TV screen in the darkness. The show playing was an unfunny sitcom, doomed to a 4am time slot because it wasn’t good.

“Could you turn it off? My eyes need a break.”

“Eh? Oh yeah wasn’t really watching it, this Earth show is stuuuupid.”

So, he had been waiting him.

The room was now dark and completely quiet, even Gir had powered off after growing bored at the lack of visual stimulus. Now it was just two Irkens on the couch, gloved hands an inch apart, staring at a blank screen. Skoodge’s eyelids didn’t feel so heavy now that he was painfully aware of this. 

Their relationship was ambiguous, an unspoken thing. Somewhere a boundary had been crossed where ‘friends’ became ‘close friends’ and that became… well it became something else. They weren’t strangers to occasionally holding hands or hugging or even cuddling. Skoodge typically offered these intimacies to Zim when he noticed the other Irken was upset and needed to be comforted. Occasionally Zim would demand “the cuddles”. He passed it off as something he, the great and mighty Zim deserved, and that Skoodge should feel honored that Zim was giving him the time of day. The larger Irken had quickly caught on that this was Zim’s way of creating a buffer, that if Skoodge rejected the request Zim could say that it was Skoodge’s loss. Not Zim’s. What Zim didn’t realize was that Skoodge wouldn’t reject him. Skoodge hoped that that went both ways, but he wasn’t sure. Irkens claimed not to need love in any way shape or form. And even knowing the truth of his banishment Zim was still a proud Irken. Romantic relationships were an unspoken taboo among their kind, so neither knew how to navigate the strange new state they found themselves in.

Somewhere along the lines while lost in thought their shoulders began to lean against each other.

“SKOODGE.”

“H-huh?” He was jolted from his own brain.

“How was your uh, your shift.” Zim’s voice quieted.

“Oh well slow, thankful Dib gave me a new book, not much happen. Well except…”

“Except what.”

“Got yelled at by some drunk human, but that’s nothing new really, called me short and ugly but that’s nothing new either.”

There was a pause, a long, long pause. Skoodge’s antenna picked up on the fact Zim’s were shaking.

“Zim… It doesn’t bother me. Like I said its noth-”

“BUT IT BOTHERS. ME. YOU ARE MY FFFRR.. FFRRIEND AND IF SOMEONE INSULTS YOU, THEY MIGHT AS WELL. MIGHT AS WELL INSULT ME. THE FILTHY HUMAN WILL- ERGH STOP LETTING PEOPLE DEGRADE YOU!”

Skoodge blinked, he opened his mouth to speak but nothing came out. He had survived Irk with a combination of making himself useful to others and pure luck. It was easy to let others treat him badly, to play along with it, to keep his head. But even that wore thin. The Tallest tried to kill him multiple times because he was never good enough no matter how agreeable he made himself. With Zim though, especially these past few years, there had been a desire to forge a sense of self-confidence. Its why he had stuck with him throughout their smeethood and days at the Academy. Zim didn’t let anyone make him feel small or flawed no matter what. Around him Skoodge felt a little bit of that confidence rub off on him. 

_If someone insults you, they might as well insult me._

Another defense mechanism from Zim. To make it about him he could deny that he was cared about Skoodge. To shield vulnerability with false pride and bravado. It didn’t work as well as it use too, Skoodge knew Zim’s language now, he knew what Zim meant.

His hand moved and became warmer, Zim was holding it in his. In the darkness he stared back at Zim.

“I uh, well I guess, if I survived Blorch I’m sure I can survive telling a pissed customer to fuck off.”

“YOU CAN SUR- You can survive more than that.” Zim sounded concerned, an unusual tone. That usually came out for Gir, on the off chance the troublesome little robot had gotten injured. But this was different than that. They were quiet again, unsure of where to go. Zim still held his hand and then squeezed it. It was a tight squeeze from someone who didn’t know what he was doing, but it was comforting. If Skoodge’s PAK had exploded right then and there he would have died happy. 

“If it means anything, which it SHOULD, you are short but, you aren’t ugly.”

“I mean yeah we are both short, you’re actually shorter tha- Wait, what was that last part?”

“Zim doesn’t think you’re ugly.”

“Oh, well… thank yo-“

“Zim actually finds you very nice to look at so feel honored.”

And Skoodge did. He also felt his cheeks getting warmer. “Ok… Thank you.”

“Yes, yes, thank me, Zim is a most gracious uh… friend”

“Yeah, you really are.”

A pause, more drawn out quiet. Skoodge felt Zim fidget with his hand. Zim’s antenna sprung forward.

“WOULD YOU LIKE TO CUDDLE THE ALMIGHTY ZIM!”

Well if there was a statement in the universe that would come close to feeling like getting your brain bashed in with a lemon wrapped around a gold brick for Skoodge it was that.

“O-oh that would actually be nice,” He barely squeaked that out before coughing, he then thought to speak Zim’s language “Yes I would be honored if the uh, Almighty Zim, cuddled… me…”

“Y-YES YOU SHOULD,” Zim fumbled as his hand left Skoodge’s. It became apparent how awkward this was for them both. For starters, Skoodge was generally the resident provider of cuddles, he’d be the one to pick up and hold Zim, but now Zim was initiating. Secondly, Zim didn’t excel at being affectionate. There was string of elbowing and adjusting, then readjusting. But finally…

Skoodge rested his head on Zim’s chest as they layed on the couch together. Zim put a shaking hand on top of Skoodge’s head, gently rubbing the base of his antenna like Skoodge would do for him. Skoodge sighed feeling his body relax, he shut his eyes, a rumbling purr starting in his chest. Zim relaxed too as Skoodge’s purring confirmed to him that he was doing this right. This was good, this felt right.

“I’m supposed to work tomorrow… I guess now today, in the afternoon…” Skoodge mumbled.

“Get one of those filthy coworkers to do it.”

“I think I will.”


End file.
